


Can You Keep A Secret?

by dimbleby



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Cliche, Identity Porn, M/M, Past Clark Kent/Lois Lane
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-01-24 15:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 8,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21340801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimbleby/pseuds/dimbleby
Summary: Clark is investigating a Luthor facility and gets hit with just enough Kryptonite to disorient him (and seriously loosen his tongue.) The problem is that Bruce Wayne is sitting next to him on the plane home ...
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 150
Kudos: 439





	1. Chapter 1

“Bruce Wayne is sitting next to me on a plane. Next to me on a plane is sitting Bruce Wayne.” 

Clark was fairly sure that was an accurate summation of the current situation. He was still woozy from the Kryptonite mist that he had almost-but-not-completely-avoided earlier that evening. Hence, the air travel. 

Maybe he had been more affected than he realized. It would certainly explain why a billionaire was flying coach to Metropolis. 

Bruce Wayne cleared his throat and gave him a half-smile. “Wayne Enterprises board members no longer fly on private planes. We’re going carbon neutral…” 

It definitely seemed like it was Bruce Wayne. Clark stared at him, maybe a little too long. “I’m hungover,” Clark announced, when Bruce Wayne had stopped talking about the limits of purchasing air-travel offsets. “And drunk.” 

Bruce Wayne nodded. “I assumed.” 

The plane lifted into the air. Clark’s stomach did a little flip. What was going on? He closed his eyes and tried to think about the sun.


	2. Chapter 2

Clark woke up with a start. Was something on the plane? “Grodd!” he heard himself say. 

Bruce Wayne — still there — looked over. “Grodd?”

“God!” Clark said. “I’m, y’know, praying. I’m from Smallville.” 

Checking his watch was a reflex that was all bumbling-in-I’m-sorry-I’m-late Clark Kent. Normally he just was able to look at the sky and know. He looked out at the sky and all he saw was dark and rain. Ten minutes had passed. 

“It’s just some minor turbulence,” Bruce Wayne said. “No need to start the negotiations yet.” 

Clark thought that must be a joke, but he wasn’t sure. “I’m a nervous flyer.” 

“I thought a Daily Planet reporter would call for Superman instead.” 

Bruce Wayne said it casually, not even bothering to look up from the documents he was quickly scrolling through. Clark felt an echo of something — it felt like a warning. He wasn’t sure. Once he had opened his eyes all he could think was that everything was bright. Too bright. There didn’t seem to be much room for any other thoughts.

“How did you know?” 

Bruce Wayne gave him a smile. It didn’t really reach his eyes, Clark noticed. A pity. They were nice eyes. 

“I was also touring the Luthercorp Louisiana facility for the geo-engineering presentation. I think we had a different level of access.”

A different level of access. What an interesting way of phrasing it ... Clark remembered being in the sky above the factory, listening in as the lead Luthercorp scientists gave a group of potential investors a tour. Had Bruce Wayne been there? Why didn’t he remember? 

Clark realized he was supposed to say something, a little too late. The plane jolted before he could reply.


	3. Chapter 3

Clark gripped his seatbelt as his stomach roiled. “I think we’re going to crash.” 

“It’s very unlikely.” 

He couldn’t help but shoot an incredulous look at Bruce Wayne. “Have you ever been in a plane that was crashing? I bet it felt like this. Right now.” Oh god, he sounded like a teenager. He felt like — he wasn’t sure, but he thought it was probably like what a human panic attack felt like. Clark wanted to leave this plane. So badly. 

When was the Kryptonite going to leave his system?

He hadn’t said that out loud, had he? 

Clark caught a glimpse of something that looked like a plane on Bruce Wayne’s screen. A plane? 

“Anything on the bucket list spring to mind?” 

Clark was a journalist. He was fairly sure. He didn’t normally go around answering open-ended questions, but —

“The usual stuff,” he answered weakly. Images flashed in his head. His father. Fathers. Krypton. Lois. Luthor … Spending his life going from one fire to another. Sometimes they were literal fires. Feeling like there was something more he was meant to be doing. There was supposed to be a team, a family. Something more … 

Bruce Wayne raised his eyebrows. “What’s the usual stuff?”


	4. Chapter 4

“I guess a guy like Bruce Wayne probably doesn’t even know what the ‘usual stuff’ is, huh?” 

“It’s just Bruce, please.” 

Clark nodded. As the Kryptonite slowly left his system, he was beginning to feel just how surreal this situation was. Was he still in Louisiana, passed out on some Luthorcorp scientist’s table? Being a reporter, he had had his fair amount of schmoozing from sources who wanted to get their angle on a story out. But this wasn’t a story. Right? This was just a coincidence-- 

Clark took a breath. The plane jolted again. Something in him broke. 

“Okay, _Bruce._ I’m Clark. I work long hours. I have no life. When I get home all I’m going to have is a dark apartment and two voicemails from my mom I’m not going to answer because she wants me to invite my ex-girlfriend, who I work with and is now dating another person we work with, to Thanksgiving dinner. Which is great. So great. And I see her every day and I miss her, but not enough to try and get her back. I’m just — I don’t know what I’m feeling most of the time. I googled “how do you identify emotions” yesterday.”

Bruce was definitely giving him more attention now than he had since he sat down. “Go on.” 

“And — I don’t know what I’m going with on this Luthorcorp story. It’s my … reporter’s instinct. I’ve been covering Luthor for years. I don’t believe this geo-engineering stuff. Both on a, uh, science level and on the PR level. It’s greenwashing, obviously, I think you and your company are probably familiar with the concept. All that ridiculous stuff you said when you sat down —”

Clark stopped. Too much. He had definitely said too much. 

Bruce dipped his head. He didn’t look angry. If anything, he looked amused. “We’re greenwashing, huh?”

“I think — I believe I said Luthor was doing it first. Plus, I just don’t have a good feeling about—” 

“I agree with you.”

Clark was surprised. “You’re not going to tell on me at the next, uh, billionaire … club … meeting?” 

Bruce shook his head. “No, we usually stick to politics these days.” 

Clark was fairly sure he was kidding.


	5. Chapter 5

Clark smiled and shrugged. “You know, there is a rumor that Luthor put together an exploratory committee for a Presidential run next year…” What a joke. Lois had laughed for a solid five minutes when a source for another story had mentioned it. 

Bruce gave him an unreadable look. “No comment.”

“Are you fudging serious? It’s true?” 

Clark regretted that the moment it came out of his mouth. On the one hand, he was happy that his brain was now aware enough to experience self-consciousness, but on the other hand he truly felt like everything he said was stupider than the last. 

“Am I … _what_?”

“Sorry, it’s … my ex-girlfriend, Lois, well — when we were dating she’d sort of make fun of me for not swearing by saying stuff like that. Usually bakery-based exclamations. So I picked it up from her. Now I actually say things like, holy fudging cupcakes.”

Bruce hmm’ed. And thankfully seemed to move on. “Lois Lane?”

“You know her?” 

“By reputation only. Is she working on the Luthorcorp story with you?”

“Climate change stories usually aren’t front page news until someone … er, dies. I know it doesn’t sound fair, but …” It didn’t sound fair because it wasn’t fair. “Lois usually works on bigger stories.” Lois was the most talented writer in the newsroom, obviously, but she still had to go where the public interest was. 

“And this isn’t a big story?”

“I mean, it’s a research facility opening. In Louisiana. Doing basic science. It will probably even be in the business section — “Luthorcorp invests in green tech” — The people who are into reading about corporate strategies will be interested, but that’s probably it.” 

“I suppose if Superman were to get involved …”

Bruce said it — _Superman_ — casually, not even looking at Clark as he said it. But Clark felt everything stop for just a moment. It’s not like he had ever really been good at this secret identity stuff, but …

“... Lois Lane might want a byline. If it was Superman related,” Bruce Wayne finished. “That’s her real beat, right?”

“Ha, ha,” Clark chuckled in what he hoped was a reasonably normal voice. “I get it. Lois. Ha. Yep. She hangs out with him. I guess. She tells me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to the people who are reading this. i challenged myself to write something every day, and so far it's going well!


	6. Chapter 6

“I’ve been talking a lot, haven’t I?” Clark said, realizing this was true. Their entire conversation had basically been him talking. It was almost like Bruce Wayne was trying to get information from him.

That was a ridiculous thought. He was fairly sure it was a ridiculous thought. 

“This is a conversation, isn’t it?” 

Clark took a maybe-less-than-sneaky look at Bruce. He didn’t particularly look like he was engaged in some sort of shadowy corporate sabotage of Luthorcorp, but maybe that was because he was Bruce Wayne. His general public demeanor was what Clark privately thought of as ‘overpaid movie star forced to promote movie he thinks is terrible.’ Intensely good-looking and a little sulky. 

“Yeah, I just don’t want to talk about —” 

Clark stopped. He had belatedly realized that Wayne Enterprises owned several other newspapers. But if Bruce really was trying to sabotage Luthorcorp, it would probably be better to cover his tracks —- 

“-- Work. I’m off the clock.” 

Bruce nodded. His face was neutral. “That was pretty obvious when you got on the plane.” 

Clark realized he didn’t remember getting on the plane. Or sitting down. That was … not great. He gave Bruce his aw-shucks smile. 

“Did I say anything embarrassing?” 

He was already sure he hadn’t said anything about Superman. His powers had returned enough for him to hear Bruce’s steady heartbeat and blood pressure. No one who was around Superman was ever that calm. Unfortunately, Clark could think of about a hundred other potentially stupid things he could have said. 

“Well, you took my sparkling water. And said something about me being a movie star.”

Clark valiantly attempted to maintain eye contact. What the _fudge_? 

“It’s fine. Hope it helps with the hangover …” 

Clark nodded. It was really all he could do at that point. 

“... But just so you know, at a certain point. It stops being fun.” And, oh, Bruce’s heart jumped. Clark noticed the brief look he shot at the exit-row seats. “I’m sure this is just the usual hard-drinking reporter culture, but … it stops being fun. Just some advice.” 

Oh, god. Clark was acutely aware that Bruce Wayne had just said that despite apparently wanting to jump out of the airplane mid-sentence. 

It probably would have been good to print out some of those articles he had googled about identifying your own emotional states. Clark was starting to think he needed some help here.


	7. Chapter 7

“Thanks for the advice,” Clark said. He usually felt bad when he actively lied to people in order to protect his secret identity. But, in that moment, the badness hit a new and completely unprecedented level. 

For some reason, he thought about the last fight he had with Lois before they broke up. She had told him he was only attracted to people he felt like he needed to save …. _Uh oh. Shut down that thought. Shut it down right now._

Bruce checked his watch. “Looks like we’ve got ten minutes till we land.”

Looks like someone wanted to change the subject. Clark was more than fine with that. “Ten minutes. Thank god.” Although, given the ongoing turbulence, he was somewhat worried that they would all crash and die in that time. He still had nowhere enough strength to fly anyone to safety. 

He was starting to get his superhearing back, though, and the pilot seemed oddly unworried … 

The plane nosedived. 

Clark grabbed Bruce’s hand.


	8. Chapter 8

Clark looked down at his hand. Yep. It was still holding onto Bruce Wayne’s hand. Twenty hours ago he was in the sky, flying to Louisiana, thinking the worst thing he was going to have to deal with this weekend was yet another of Lex Luthor’s schemes. 

When he was being shot at by supersoldiers with some sort of Kryptonite aerosol bomb -- okay, he had expected that. When he was locked by Mercy Graves in a room that inexplicably smelled of lithium -- he had also expected something like that. Really, his life was usually much stranger. But this? Completely unexpected.

Bruce hadn’t said anything. Clark had never been great at interpreting silences, and unfortunately Bruce Wayne seemed to have an incredible poker face. 

(As well as an incredible face, Clark’s lizard brain reminded him.)

“Thanks,” Clark said, slowly letting go. “That was ….” _Wonderful? Your hands are warm? Where did you get those callouses? Let’s do it again sometime? Or just for the rest of this flight?_ “Sorry.”

“Not a problem,” said Bruce. 

Clark stared at him, probably a little too long. From all of the physiological signs he could monitor, Bruce was telling the truth. Bruce had relaxed into the contact between them … but he had misinterpreted those signs before. 

Even with the advantages Clark had, most of the time he thought that humans were just too complicated to understand at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love the new mercy graves in _titans_ so i obviously had to give her a little shoutout :)


	9. Chapter 9

The plane was finally on the ground. Clark breathed a sigh of relief. It was over. He was 17.6 miles from home. He would go to bed, sleep this off, and things would be better in the morning. 

_Things._ Things like accidentally holding hands with Bruce Wayne. Clark was used to compartmentalizing parts of himself. The part of him that was Superman, the part of him that was Clark Kent, the part of him that was attracted to very unavailable people … He would get off this plane and it would be over. And that would be okay. Right?

“Deadline coming up?”

Oh, Bruce was still there. And talking to him.

“What?” 

Bruce looked at him, exasperated but amused. “For the Luthorcorp story.”

“It’s going in the Sunday edition. So, not tonight.” _Thank god._

“That gives you more time to think about what the story is, right?” 

Something in Bruce’s voice made Clark pause. He realized that he had no idea why Bruce was in Metropolis. He hadn’t even asked him. (He was pretty sure?) And Bruce knew everything -- about him, about the story he was writing. He had wondered earlier if this was part of some corporate espionage thing -- but had eventually dismissed it. It was ridiculous to think Bruce Wayne would personally be involved in something like that. So why did this whole conversation feel like it had been planned? 

“It does,” Clark said cautiously.

“Good. Nice talking to you.” Bruce wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were on the exit. He sounded like he was already gone. 

People were getting off the plane. Bruce hefted a sports bag over his shoulder. 

_No,_ Clark wanted to say, although he wasn’t entirely sure why. _Don’t go yet._ Fudge compartmentalization. He wanted to keep talking -- 

Bruce Wayne walked away. 

Clark watched him go, mentally kicking himself. What exactly had he expected would happen next? This was life. Not a romantic comedy. 

He walked out to the taxi pool, wondering if he would be able to figure out how to expense this trip or if he would have to ask Lois. As he slid into the backseat of a taxi, he heard Bruce Wayne’s voice from the other side of the airport. He was getting into a limo, and Clark could only make out some of what he was saying. 

His voice was different, somehow. 

“Alfred — I got the Daily Planet on it … Reporter … Neurotic … Extra heat … Plan B.”


	10. Chapter 10

Clark woke up from a dream, half-sure he wouldn’t be alone when he turned over in bed. The dream cleared away, and all he could think about was Bruce Wayne. 

That conversation he had overheard -- it was clearly about him. But why? He had so many questions. Like, why did Bruce Wayne have capital-P-Plans? What was Plan A if him writing in the _Planet_ about Luthorcorp was Plan B? What was he trying to accomplish? Why couldn’t he do it through the hundreds of other potential channels available to a famous, wealthy businessman? 

Lastly, _neurotic_? As someone who constantly had to evaluate and re-evaluate all of his word choices, Clark would say that was an old-fashioned (and interestingly, gendered) way of describing someone who makes problems out of things that aren’t really problems. He was a little indignant about it being used to describe him. He had rescued an entire naval fleet last week, after all ...

(Clark made a mental note: discuss etymology and historic usage of “neurotic” with Lois?) 

Something was just _off_. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, other than to say: Bruce Wayne was definitely hiding something. 

He just didn’t know if it was more or less terrible than what Lex Luthor was hiding (which he was almost 100% sure was another way to try to kill him -- and shift the massive R&D costs onto taxpayers using Louisiana’s green energy incentives.) 

Clark sighed and got out of bed. Corporate misdeeds, power-hungry billionaires, and tax law. Another day in the life of a reporter.


	11. Chapter 11

“Kent!” Lois shouted from across the room. The newsroom was abuzz. Whatever happened hadn't involved people being hurt -- he had actually slept through most of the previous night, apart from a minor earthquake in Mongolia -- but it clearly was big news. 

Clark smiled, and hurried Lois's way. She looked intensely excited. 

“Your Louisiana story is going on the backburner --- unless you got something good on it?”

Nothing he could write about. For now. And he definitely wasn’t going to ask Lois about Bruce Wayne in front of the Washington and politics reporters, aka, the worst gossips in the building. They would definitely read something into that hand-holding-that-wasn’t-hand-holding. “No. What do you need?”

“Dig into the Representatives on the House Committee on Appropriations -- the Department of Defense budget hearings are probably going to be the only stories on the front page.” 

Clark nodded, wondering how fast of a speed he’d be able to watch the hearings at in office without raising eyebrows. 3x? That was pretty normal, right? 

He watched the hearings. He could see why this was news. While the Generals emphasized the risks of climate change and asked for a budget that would help them respond to the national security challenges of a changing climate, the members of the Committee seemed to be unusually flippant in their responses.

One representative began by sarcastically noting that _"we respect your service and your expertise, General."_ That representative, Clark knew, had received millions in campaign donations from Cadmus and Luthor.

_“But our scientists and innovators are the best in the world, and this is a problem we can solve,” _The representative shrugged nonchalantly. _“Lex Luthor, I believe, is developing some geoengineering technology as we speak. He won’t be layin’ down and givin’ up on this anytime soon ...”_

Clark frowned at the screen. Not only had this guy gone into his hometown accent -- a sure sign of pandering if there ever was one -- he had pretty much picked the side of private company over the Pentagon.

There was the usual back-and-forth for two and a half more hours. The gist of it seemed to be that there were four groups: climate change is not happening, climate change is bad but Lex Luthor can fix it, climate change is bad but Superman can fix it, and climate change is bad and here are a whole list of things we need to start doing now or we’re all screwed. 

Clark just stared his laptop blankly. People expected him to do a lot, and he never complained (out loud -- or without feeling very guilty later.) But this? He was fairly sure this was not a problem he, or anyone, could solve on their own. 

He put his headphones in (for show, really, he could still hear every word in the building without effort) and banged out a few conflict-of-interest stories for Lois. 

All while feeling a little less _super_ than he had in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> due to real life, politics has bled into this a little. it's still a romcom, though, don't worry (this fic was originally inspired by the sophia kinsella book, _can you keep a secret?_)


	12. Chapter 12

Clark’s phone rang. “I have a source for you, wouldn’t give his name,” Marcia from the phone bank said. 

“I’ll take it,” he said. “Thanks, Marcia.”

Clark felt a sense of eagerness. Some of his best stories had started with anonymous sources calling the Planet’s tip line. Some reporters dismissed those kinds of leads, but Clark had the sentimental view that investigative journalists should at least occasionally listen to the public. (Even if what they usually wanted to talk about were UFO sightings.)

“Clark Kent?”

He knew that voice. It was Bruce. 

“The Planet had some very thorough reporting on the hearings yesterday.” 

“Thank you.” 

Bruce was silent. This conversation really was unsettling. Subterfuge was not Clark’s style and he genuinely didn’t know what else to say. He knew from what he had overheard that Bruce was planning something. He knew that by not running the Luthorcorp story he had interfered somehow with ‘Plan B.’ 

And he knew that, despite everything, despite the fact that he was being used for something -- he really did want to see Bruce again. 

“Still… still in Metropolis?” 

Based on the time he had spent talking with Bruce, there was a 100% chance he was going to get a one word answer to that. Clark tried to salvage it. “That is, if you’re still in the city, I could use some deep background for my story. I’ll be at The Guardian, on tenth street, for lunch.” 

Bruce made a considering sound. “A bar?”

Clark pointed to himself in the reflection of his laptop screen. Had he just invited Bruce Wayne to a bar? After all the stuff that had been in the tabloids … after what Bruce himself had hinted at when they were on the plane? ‘Fudging stupid,’ he mouthed at his reflection. Out loud, he said, “They have good sweet potato fries. And it’s very dark.” 

“See you there.”


	13. Chapter 13

Clark was planning on being early. Really. But there were more meetings about the upcoming podcast, and Lois potentially had a congressional staffer who wanted to talk, and he just couldn’t politely get off the phone with a researcher who was really worried about PFAS regulations … 

It was a lot. And yeah, it was mostly terrible. But sometimes -- and of course he felt guilty for even thinking this -- it was nice that the world needed Clark Kent, too. 

So he walked into the bar about five minutes early. He casually looked around the room, not expecting to see Bruce. He stepped up to the bar and ordered fries --

_Wait_, he thought. There was someone at the back booth, half in shadows. There was something about the image, something in the back of his mind he couldn’t quite grasp … He looked again, and Bruce leaned into the light. 

Clark waved. 

“Be right there,” he called out across the room. 

Bruce gave him a disbelieving look and leaned back into the dark. 

“Fries?” Clark offered as he sat down.

Bruce did not look amused. Then again -- given their first meeting -- Bruce probably thought he was meeting with a barely-functional alcoholic who clearly didn’t understand the basics of his job, let alone how to talk to a potential source. 

_Good,_ Clark thought. He was used to people underestimating him. He knew exactly how big of a tactical advantage it was. (Regardless of the part of him that definitely wanted to impress Bruce ...)

Clark cleared his throat noisily. “This time of day, there’s no one here except reporters and cops,” he said.

“How reassuring.”

Bruce took a drink of something Clark’s mom would have called ‘fancy water.’ 

“Are you worried about someone seeing you talking to a reporter?” Clark asked, wondering if his tone had been reassuring enough. Wondering if Bruce would hear the real question: _what is it that you have to hide?_

“You have no idea what worries me about this.” Bruce said matter-of-factly. He paused. Something in his features seemed to shift in the shadows, although Clark couldn’t say what. “But let’s start with your paper. Three separate senators have brought up Luthor in the hearings, do you not think that investigating his new facility is newsworthy?” 

Clark leaned back almost instinctively, as if his body was recognizing a threat. 

_This is ridiculous_, he thought. So what if Bruce Wayne wasn’t the stupid playboy he played at on the weekends? So what Luthorcorp and Wayne Enterprises were engaged in some shadowy PR battle? So what if he had been too lonely lately and Bruce --

He had bigger problems. Time to get to the point. 

“Do you have any information for me?”

Bruce stood up abruptly. His expression was controlled, but the lines of his body suggested _looming_. “That’s your job, reporter.”

Clark watched him walk out. He had the feeling that he would never see Bruce Wayne in person again.


	14. Chapter 14

“Kent,” Lois said -- under her breath but loud enough she knew he would hear -- as they filed out of their morning meeting. “Our spot in fifteen?” 

Clark caught her eye and nodded.

Fifteen minutes later he was standing on the roof, trying to push down any feelings of nostalgia. This was the first time they had been back up here since the breakup. This hadn’t just been their spot to talk about Superman-related things, it had been their spot to steal away from their incredibly nosy coworkers to hold hands, to kiss … 

He heard Lois’s heels clicking up the stairs. Heard her stepping carefully across the roof, keeping inside the blindspots. And then she was there, in front of him. 

“Hey, Lois,” he said. 

She looked at him with a wry grin. She could always tell. “This is Superman business.”

Clark shrugged and smiled back. “Ok, the cape is on.” 

“Bruce Wayne called.” 

Clark was silent for a moment. “For Superman?” 

“Didn’t I just say that, farm boy?”

“Hey, I said the cape was on!” 

They both cracked up. Clark looked at Lois. Maybe this was the end of something, but she was still there, still in his life, still his best friend. Still Lois. 

“He was calling about the Luthorcorp facility in Louisiana?” 

“Got it.” Lois gave him a look. “I’m not sure what he knows. Tried to get it out of him, but he wasn’t interested in anything other than having me pass on a message to Superman.” 

“But if you had to guess?”

“Obviously Wayne and Luthor are currently competing for several defense contracts. Obviously, they’re also jockeying to become the next big thing in green tech. But my gut says … my gut says there’s something else. Bigger. Maybe he had someone investigate the facility and they found something more than corporate dirt.”

Clark sighed. “Thanks, Lois.”

“Anytime.”

He watched her leave. Took a moment. And then started to wonder, yet again, what the _fudge_ Bruce Wayne was up to.


	15. Chapter 15

Clark thought about all the reasons he -- _Superman_ \-- shouldn’t meet Bruce Wayne. He didn’t exactly make a habit of being at the beck and call of people who had enough resources to deal with their own problems. He wasn’t sure what Bruce wanted. He knew Bruce wasn’t telling him everything he knew about Luthor. There was even a small chance that he was working with Luthor -- Lex had burned Clark too many times with that particular play for him not to be wary of it. 

And of course, there was the Batman. Gotham’s shadowy protector, the vigilante who never killed. Two years ago, Batman had disappeared once for three months, and Clark had responded to several distress calls from Gotham PD. Eventually, of course, Batman had returned and sent a brief message to him through Commissioner Gordon: ‘Get out of my city.’ Clark hadn’t been back as Superman since. 

He had also never tried to find out who the man behind the mask was. It would have been so easy, just close his eyes and follow the sounds of mob thugs tripping over steel cable in the dark to the heartbeat of the -- 

But he hadn’t. And he wouldn’t. Clark considered it a professional courtesy, but he wasn’t so naive as to think Batman had returned the favor. From what he could observe of his work, Gotham’s hero was meticulous, intelligent and very well-informed. And Clark … well, his impenetrable disguise was wearing glasses and sometimes tripping over his own feet. So -- Batman probably had some inkling of who Superman could be. 

How would he react if Superman was in Gotham, visiting their most well-known citizen? _Technically, Wayne Manor is outside Gotham city limits …_

Clark sighed. All this, plus that thing where he had this history of meeting up with his crushes as Superman, and then having said crushes then start crushing on Superman. Did he really want to go through that whole thing again? 

It was starting to get old. 

Still, all those reasons weren't enough to stop him from feeling worried. Luthor was working on something big, and judging from the arsenal of Kryptonite weapons that he had his soldiers deploy against him in Louisiana -- something he wanted desperately to hide.

Bruce Wayne was a civilian. And -- on the rich person sliding scale -- fairly innocent. Clark couldn't let him get involved with this. 

He jumped off the roof. _Gotham, here I come._


	16. Chapter 16

Clark hovered over Wayne Manor. It didn’t appear occupied, apart from the one man standing on the flat rooftop above the garage. This rooftop doubled as a helipad, but there was no helicopter in sight. There were, however, large areas of the Manor and its surroundings that seemed to have been built in part with lead -- blocking his x-ray vision. 

It was an unusual tableau. The man was alone, the only person Clark could sense for miles. He was standing, hands in his pockets, looking out across the landscape. His heartbeat was slow, very slow. If Clark didn’t know this man were Bruce Wayne, he would have guessed this was a professional athlete. 

It was slightly raining, more like mist than rain. Tiny beads of water appeared on the man’s black-blue overcoat, but he didn’t seem bothered. He raised his face to the sky. 

Clark instinctively flinched, at the same time as he knew that he was far enough up that the human eye would never be able to detect him. And the man on the roof, whatever else he was, was just a human. 

Clark took a breath, and then was standing across from Bruce. 

Bruce crossed his arms and looked him over. Very carefully. It was a good thing Superman didn’t blush. 

“You’re really Superman,” he said. 

Clark bit back a too-Clark response. _I really did just fly out of the stratosphere in front of you, so yeah._ Another thing Superman didn’t do was sarcasm. “I’m here. What is it that you need?” 

“I need you to stay away from Luthor’s Louisiana plant.” 

Clark stared at him. It was clear from his tone that Bruce Wayne really didn’t have many people saying no to him. 

“No,” he said. 

Bruce stepped closer. He didn’t look particularly upset, but he didn’t look happy. “Stay away as Superman ... and stay away as Clark Kent.”


	17. Chapter 17

So, Bruce Wayne knew who he was. He probably had known on the plane, when he had seemed so unperturbed by the turbulence, when he had asked, no, interrogated Clark about the Luthorcorp story, about Lois --

(_“Is she working on the Luthorcorp story with you?”_

_“I suppose if Superman were to get involved …”)_

\-- Had there even been real turbulence? Clark didn’t remember getting on the plane. Whose plane was it? Who else was on the plane, because he didn’t remember that, either.

He’d been played. 

“Who are you?” Clark asked. There was no fudging way he was going to respond to Bruce’s guess about his secret identity. 

“You’re still not asking the right questions,” Bruce said. The neutral tone was replaced by annoyance. “Lex Luthor is developing synthetic kryptonite---”

Clark rolled his eyes. “Again?” 

“What? This is serious--”

“Yeah, it’s always--”

“Don’t interrupt. I’m trying to share information. I would not be sharing this information if I had any other options. Your inept civilian alter-ego made sure of that. Luthor is not just trying to kill you with this, he wants to control you. To make the most dangerous weapon--”

Clark muttered it under his breath this time: “Again.”

Bruce’s eyes were narrowed. “You cannot go to that facility. You would be endangering the entire world. A man like Lex Luthor cannot have that kind of power.”

“I’m Superman,” Clark said. Hadn’t they gone over this already? “I will stop Luthor.” He hoped the _again_ was implied this time. Frankly, he wasn’t exactly sure why he felt compelled to explain himself to Bruce Wayne, but if he already knew about the synthetic kryptonite than it should be easy for him to convince him to stay away. 

“I think we’re actually both here for the same reason,” Clark continued. “To tell each other that Luthor is dangerous. But you’re a civilian, and as I keep saying, I’m Superman. You are the one who needs to stay away.”

Bruce was shaking his head. “If you’re going then I can’t let you go alone.”


	18. Chapter 18

Clark couldn’t help but laugh. Bruce Wayne wasn’t going to let him go alone. To stop Lex Luthor and his army of mercenaries and do-badders. As his dad would have said, hoo-boy. “Billionaires really do think they can do anything.”

Bruce wasn’t even bothering to look at him -- he was typing something on his phone. 

“I mean, maybe I should just let you handle it,” Clark teased. “Have you had much experience with defeating supervillainy? What about transferable skillsets? Any references I can call?” He obviously had come to save Bruce, but if the man was going to be difficult … 

Besides, he never got a chance to be sarcastic when he had the suit on. This was fun.

Then a lead-lined door a few hundred feet below Clark’s feet opened. And he saw it.

_It’s the fudging Batcave._

Bruce -- Batman -- met Clark’s eyes for a brief moment, and then turned away. His shoulders were relaxed but Clark heard his heart jump and skip. 

“Can we stop wasting time now?” Bruce turned around and headed down the stairs. As far as secret identity reveal moments went, it was something of an anti-climax. No explanation, no backstory, and certainly no hand-holding. (Not that Clark expected that would happen again, especially now …)

Well. Clark wasn’t taking back the sarcasm. He followed Bruce down to the Batcave.


	19. Chapter 19

The Batcave was, well … it was very, very cool. What parts of it he could see, that is. Once they had taken an elevator down below the foundations of the house and the initial lead layer, there were still rooms that his X-ray vision couldn’t see through. 

Which was a little paranoid, sure. But it had to mean Bruce had anticipated him being there.

“Did you plan on us working together?” Clark asked. It’s the first time he’s said since Bruce revealed his identity. (He had considered “cool elevator, do you call it the Bat-shaft?” but ultimately decided to keep that to himself.)

“I work alone,” Bruce said. Which wasn’t really an answer to his question.

They were walking shoulder to shoulder towards a bank of screens, the only light source in the room. Clark could hear the bats in the ceiling twitter as they got off the elevator. He could see the shadow of what he assumed -- and confirmed -- was the Batmobile. 

“You thought I’d be breaking in?” Clark laughed a little. “I’m Superman.” 

Bruce looked over at him for a second. “Exactly.” 

Clark had meant, _I’m the good guy._ He was starting to get a little annoyed, if he was honest. With Bruce and his terse one-word answers and tense shoulders, his clear reluctance to work with him, with the rooms beneath his feet that were lead-lined, with this idea that they weren’t obviously on the same side. 

They were. He would just have to find some way to convince Bruce of that.


	20. Chapter 20

They were standing in front of a 3D representation of Luthor’s Louisiana facility, the place where he was developing another strain of synthetic kryptonite. Bruce already had had a good idea of the structure of the building, but Clark was able to give him specifics of the left wing of the plant. This was where he had broken in, and been attacked with the kryptonite aerosol bomb that had put him so embarrassingly out of commission when he had met Bruce. Which was probably another piece of information that it would be good to share …

“The weapon they had,” Clark said. “It was a kryptonite aerosol bomb.”

Bruce nodded brusquely, like this wasn’t news. “Luthor is running out of non-synthetic kryptonite, so he is trying to maximize the effect of his limited supply by turning it into smaller and smaller particulate matter.”

“Until he can develop something in the lab.” 

And then the next time Clark took him on, he’d get hit with something that would do more than make him temporarily disinhibited. 

But there was something that Bruce had said that was niggling in the back of his mind. 

“How do you know that Luthor’s running out of kryptonite?” 

Bruce looked up at him. Met his eyes. “Someone else bought all of the supply that was on the market.” 

_Okay._ Clark couldn’t say he was surprised.

He smiled a little. Hopefully in a non-threatening way. “I suppose that it would probably come in handy if Luthor was able to turn me into -- what was it you said? -- _a dangerous weapon_.” 

“I actually started to say ‘the most dangerous weapon that has ever been seen on earth,’ but then you interrupted me.” 

Bruce’s tone was dry. But it was a start. 

“Sorry about that. I thought at the time that you were just a crazy rich guy. I didn’t realize you were a crazy rich guy with a bat costume and a secret lair.” 

Clark isn't quite sure -- but he thought he saw Bruce fighting a smile.


	21. Chapter 21

“Are you sure you don’t want to fly with me? I mean, isn’t this --” Clark waved vaguely at a shiny black object that somewhat resembles a plane, “Proprietary technology, or something?”

“The Batwing isn’t ‘proprietary technology.’ Because it doesn’t exist.”

“According to your tax returns, or …?” 

“Clark,” Bruce said. Was it the first time he had said it like that, just his first name? Like they knew each other? It felt new, and somehow intimate. “We want them to be surprised. Your cape doesn’t exactly have a stealth mode and no matter how fast you can fly, you are still occasionally picked up on radar.”

Clark wanted to protest: _Occasionally!_ But it was true. 

Also, did Bruce know literally everything about him?

“I could just, uh, mentally … mind-control the radar technicians so they didn’t see me on their screens.” 

Bruce didn't even look up. “If that’s your plan, perhaps you should get started on acquiring some mind-control powers.” 

Yes. That was a yes. He knew everything.


	22. Chapter 22

Bruce loosened his tie. 

_What?_

Bruce’s fingers were quick and sure, and the tie was off in seconds. Clark was just staring at his neck now. He wondered if maybe he should be paying attention to Bruce’s expression, or, better yet, the actual words coming out of his mouth. Unfortunately, he was a little distracted. 

_And, okay, he’s on the top button now ..._

He heard the whoosh of hydraulics, and something rose up from the floor. It was the Batsuit. 

“There usually isn’t anyone else here,” Bruce said. Since apparently Clark was just watching him change. 

_Don’t blush,_ Clark repeated in his head, over and over. He turned around. Like a gentleman. He wondered if Bruce would think that he was doing the gentlemanly thing, or possibly think that turning your back on someone who basically had admitted to having a stash of Kryptonite displayed poor situational awareness. 

Probably the latter. 

At least he wasn’t thinking about the way Bruce’s pants sounded when he stepped out of them. Or that when he concentrated, the sound of silk sliding against skin was louder than anything in the room … No, he definitely wasn’t thinking about that. 

This was unfair, really. Was Bruce doing this on purpose? Did he know about Clark’s crush too? He needed to shift the balance a little. 

“Why is that?” Clark asked. “Why isn’t there anyone else here?”

It was a reasonable question. There had been no sign of anyone else on the Wayne property aside from Bruce. And yet, Batman had fought alongside other Gotham heroes in the past. There had been stories in the papers about Bruce Wayne’s sons. And yet, here he was -- seemingly all on his own. 

“If you’re going to talk --”

“--Let me guess, I should stick to talking about the mission?” 

There was silence, apart from the sounds of the suit’s articulated armor pieces snapping into place. 

“It’s better this way,” Bruce said. 

Why had he said that? It sounded like an admission. Of what, Clark wasn’t quite sure. And why had he said it so softly, almost like it hurt? Far from throwing Bruce off balance, it seemed like Clark was the one who was spinning out. At least his face was turned to the wall. At least he wasn’t looking into Bruce’s blue, blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just wanted to say thanks again for all the nice comments. this fic & you guys are really helping with the ... everything <3


	23. Chapter 23

Clark loved to fly. There was something about the moment of lift-off … everything felt completely, wonderfully possible. He had wondered if that was something specific to him, because of his powers. But he’d heard Lois say the same thing when they had flown together -- on planes and off. So this feeling: it was something that he shared with people, rather than something that set him apart. 

He couldn’t help but smile broadly. 

Bruce looked over at him, from the pilot’s seat. His expression was unreadable. “You’re not what I expected,” he said, after a long pause. 

“I love flying,” Clark replied simply. 

“I see that,” Bruce said, flipping a switch. They were on course to be at the facility in one hour. 

Clark wasn’t sure where to go from there. He could hear the solar-powered battery cells that were powering the Batwing’s engine humming smoothly. It had to be another experimental technology, and one that had the potential to revolutionize the industry -- 

But he didn’t think that Bruce would appreciate reporter-Clark making an appearance. Bruce had already seemed so reluctant to trust him. 

Fifty-five minutes to go. 

“So, about the first time I was on a plane with you …”


	24. Chapter 24

Clark wasn’t stupid. He didn’t really think that Bruce would open up that easily.

“Remember how when we were supposedly about to die in a plane crash I talked about my mom and Lois, and Thanksgiving? Well, in case you were wondering -- I called mom back. Talked to her about me and Lois breaking up. Lois is still invited to Thanksgiving, though. And I think I’m okay with it. Just in case you were anxiously awaiting the conclusion of that thrilling saga.”

Bruce did not look like he had been anxiously awaiting the conclusion of that thrilling saga. 

“Anyways … you kidnapped me. Basically.” 

The microshift in Bruce’s expression wouldn’t have been visible to human eyes. Clark had surprised him. “I dispute that characterization of events.” 

Clark finally sat in the copilot seat, figuring that any response at all was as good as an invitation. 

Bruce looked over at him. “Don’t touch anything.” 

Clark was not going to be distracted. And he definitely wasn’t going to touch anything. “Okay, what happened?” 

“It was my plane.” 

“I know that part.”

Bruce just raised an eyebrow. 

Clark shrugged. “Okay, I know that part _now_.” Well, he’d guessed that part. Same difference. 

“It wasn’t kidnapping. You were trying to get to Metropolis, I took you to Metropolis.”

“So how much do I owe you for the ticket?”

Bruce was definitely enjoying this conversation. “Do you know what a private flight on a WayneJet costs?”

“Actually, no.” 

There was silence. It seemed marginally more comfortable than before. 

“Look,” Clark said. “Can you just tell me what happened? With words?”

“I’d been surveying the facility when you showed up. It was easy to track you to the airport when you left -- you were barely conscious. I suppose you were aware enough to know you shouldn’t fly back on your own, but not aware enough to realize how suspicious it would be for Clark Kent to suddenly show up in Louisiana right after Superman had been there.”

“Thanks,” Clark said. He was kicking himself for being so careless, yes, but he was also surprised. Was that the most he had heard Bruce talk? Ever?

“I didn’t tell you that for--”

“Still, thanks!” Clark paused. “Next time you’re …” He wasn’t sure what the right word was. Talking with Bruce was like dancing through a field of landmines sometimes. “Next time you need a lift, give me a call and I’ll return the favor.”

Bruce looked at him, searchingly. Then nodded. “Let’s just get through tonight.”


	25. Chapter 25

They were hovering over the Luthorcorp Louisiana facility, so high they were almost out of the atmosphere. Bruce pushed a button and a door in the bottom of the plane slid open. It was a cloudless night and Clark could see all the way down to the muscle patrolling the roof. 

“Still,” Clark said, just to break the sudden silence. “You did try and get information from me. On the plane.” 

Bruce shook his head. “I had the relevant information. I was just trying to make sure you didn’t come here again.” 

The _relevant_ information. Clark had sure given him a lot of pretty irrelevant information, too … 

“And look where we are now,” Clark said. The guys on the roof still hadn’t moved. They were waiting for the end of their shift. Two minutes to go. 

He shot a look over at Bruce, who was in full Batman mode. Mask on and eyes glowing -- in other words, even harder to read. 

“I like that you thought I could just write some exposé on Luthor in the _Planet_ and this would all be settled,” Clark continued. “I like that you have that kind of faith -- it’s almost idealism.” 

“I believe in the free press. It’s the cornerstone of democracy,” Bruce said. 

Clark’s mouth started working before his brain. “That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said.”

_Uh oh, that was too sincere. Way too sincere. Divert. Divert!_

“You’re not worried that Luthor will think you’re my ally now? Put you on his little ‘enemies list?’ I’ve seen it, actually. He writes it with a sharpie …”

Bruce made a noise that -- although it was distorted by his voice changer -- did sound pretty amused.

“Oh well. I never could stand the guy.” 

Clark was simultaneously relieved that Bruce had run with his (very smooth) change of subject, and disappointed that he had. Well -- if he couldn’t flirt, he could banter. 

“What, did you go to boarding school together?”

The roof below was empty. Bruce’s arms moved into position. It was time. “Worse,” Bruce said. “Davos. Every year.” He jumped off the plane. 

Clark laughed, and followed him.


	26. Chapter 26

_Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth,_ Clark had heard someone say once in a gym. He’d been sitting around the corner, listening into the coaches. This was back when he had first become Superman, when he was trying to match his fighting style to the way humans fought. The way their brains translated pain. 

Before people (present company excused) loved the idea of a superpowered alien whose passions were ignoring speed limits and disaster relief. 

So. They had a plan. 

_Batman and Superman. Superman and Batman?_

One: avoiding anyone who was going to so much as think about punching. Two: get in. Three: get the synthetic kryptonite. Four: get out. 

_Okay._ Clark wasn’t going to be a hypocrite in his own internal monologue. Clark had made it clear he was coming back to Louisiana, with or without Bruce. Bruce had made the very reasonable points that they didn’t have enough intel, and that if Luthor and his scientists had developed the synthetic kryptonite simply taking it from the lab would only slow the supervillainy, not stop it. 

(He didn’t use those exact words.)

Clark hadn't changed his mind, and so here they were. Bruce’s cape was trailing in front of him, faintly scratching the floor as they made their way through the dark hallway. He was all shadow, and Clark felt faintly ridiculous in his primary colors. 

His tights weren’t the only thing that he was doubting at that moment. Sometimes it felt like all he ever did was respond to crises. And, maybe, just maybe … splitting his life between being a journalist constantly refreshing Twitter and being a superhero who could respond to any disaster in seconds had meant that he was starting to become used to reaching for short-term solutions.

_Is this a mistake?_ Clark wondered. _Am I doing the right thing, right now?_

His stomach felt sick. 

_The punched-in-the-mouth feeling. I think this is it._


	27. Chapter 27

_Bruce, let’s go …_ Those were the words in his head, on the tip of his tongue. _Let’s leave,_ he thought, as he reached out his hand. Bruce’s cape whipped ahead of him, just out of reach. 

At that moment, he heard something through the walls -- “code green … radio silence off.” Luthor’s mercenaries were advancing on their position and Lex Luthor was with them, his heart racing. 

_Fudge._

“We’re compromised,” Bruce said, in the same moment that two mercenaries burst through the wall. Bruce quickly took them down, piercing the armor over their knees. Lead armor may give you an advantage in sneaking up on Superman -- but the metal was soft, hardly protection against Batman’s weapons. Two more come after the ones that have fallen. There are more on every side. 

_Fly!_

Clark couldn’t fly. His arms were reached all around a surprised Bruce, and he couldn’t fly them out. 

He breathed in, and then breathed out quickly. There were nanoparticles of kryptonite in his throat and in his lungs. He wondered how long it had been pumping through the vents. He wondered how Luthor could have realized he would be too distracted to notice. Until it was too late.

_Run._ “Run!” He coughed out. Bruce pushed him ahead, towards their Plan C exit. (If they got out of this, he was going to fully embrace the whole ‘multiple backup plans’ thing. Really.) 

Clark’s world narrowed.

He wasn’t going to make it out. 

He reached out with all of his powers, and with every last ounce he had he burned a hole in the corridor’s ceiling. 

Bruce could escape ... _Fly away … With the belt. Things … Belt things … Bat ..._

Clark couldn’t think of the word. He was falling. He blinked, and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you're having a not-terrible day. take care <3


End file.
